


exist

by caryophyllaceae (xphantomhive)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Breakups, F/F, Insomnia, M/M, War, just a warning, limbs are lost, probable death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9510011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/caryophyllaceae
Summary: (v.) to have actual being; be.John Egbert enlists in the war, and the world falls apart.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> for my friend ;;;))))
> 
> fun game: figure out which one of the dates i used here is my birthday

“I’m enlisting.”

The room falls silent. Silverware clatters against your Nanna’s fine china, and she goes off on a tangent about how much it cost her, but no one is listening. Everyone is staring at you with wide eyes. Dave’s hand is clenched so tight into a fist that his knuckles are white. No one has the courage to break the tension, until Jade works up the wit and says—”You can’t.”

You clear your throat and clasp your hands over your stomach, which is in knots. “It’s too late, I already decided,” you respond. “You can’t stop me.”

Jade pushes her chair back and stands so hard that she rocks the table. “Then I’m enlisting, too. You’re not going to do this alone.”

Rose has gone pale. You’ve never seen her look the way she does right now—terrified and sad all at once. Hell, you’ve barely even seen her be those two emotions separately. Dave still has his hand in a fist and his fingers are starting to turn purple. He’s losing circulation in them. No one says this to him. “Jade, you—no. Rose needs you.”

“Dave needs you,” she gives back bitterly, green eyes narrowed. “But you’re enlisting anyway. You’re my little brother and I refuse to let you do this alone.”

You both get accepted into the army on December tenth, nineteen-twenty-two. Your dad, Dave, Rose, and your Nanna watch your train leave the station. Jade grabs your hand over the armrest, and quietly assures you that you’ll both make it back safely.

 

* * *

 

On February fourteenth, nineteen-twenty-three, Jade loses her leg on the battlefield. They try to send her home, but she refuses. After only two weeks of physical therapy, she’s back in the war again with a prosthetic. Dave tells you that things are falling apart at home. Rose cries herself to sleep at night and worries herself sick—Nanna has cancer; skin—and dad hasn’t baked a cake for three months. He doesn’t even bake fruitcake on Christmas.

“You need to go home, Jade,” you tell her one night. It’s past lights out, but neither of you can sleep. “The family is falling apart. They need at least one of us there to keep them together.”

“I can’t leave you alone,” she says, and that’s the end of the discussion.

 

* * *

 

On April twenty-first, nineteen-twenty-three, Jade Harley is declared dead after her plane is shot down by the enemy. You cry yourself to sleep the night they give you the news and for many nights afterward. Dave sends you a letter composed of only two words—“Come home.”

You don’t make it to Jade’s funeral. Dave sends you a letter calling you a huge array of vulgar names, and you don’t write him back. You know that you should go home, but you keep telling yourself that the war is almost over, that you’ll be home soon enough. On May first, nineteen-twenty-three, Dave sends you a break-up letter. You cry for days on end.

There are bags under your eyes and knots in your stomach, but you keep fighting.

 

* * *

 

On January thirty-first, nineteen-thirty-four, your arm is blown off by a machine gun. When they offer to send you home, you accept readily. You write Dave a letter even though he told you he would never talk to you again, not after what you did to him and the rest of your family, but it makes you feel better to tell him about everything that’s happening.

You are sent home on a train on February second. When your train pulls up in the station, nothing but an empty terminal is waiting for you. You fall to your knees and break into tears, wishing you could have done right by your family, but knowing it’s too late to rewind time. Jade is dead. Dave hates you. Rose is distraught. Dad is broken. Nanna is on her deathbed.

You are alone.

 

* * *

 

On March fifteenth, nineteen-thirty-four, Dave Strider finds you taking shelter from a blizzard underneath a bridge. Your lips are blue and your fingertips are numb. You’re skinnier than a rail because you haven’t eaten in weeks, and when he sees you, he can only muster a, “Holy shit, John,” and a few stray tears. You crack a smile the best you can. You have these moments where it feels like you still have an arm, but then you remember you don’t anymore. It’s weird. This is weird, too. “Why didn’t you write?”

“Because I thought you hated me,” you say. “For missing Jade’s funeral. For going to war. I thought you never wanted to see me again. That’s what you said in your letter.”

He shakes his head. “John Egbert, you are most certainly the dumbest man I’ve ever met in my life. I can’t believe I love you as much as I do. It’s gross.”

He picks you up like you weigh nothing and carries you back home. Rose is sitting on the sofa reading a book, and when she sees you, she bolts up and runs over to Dave, touches your prosthetic hand carefully and breathes, “John.”

You crack a smile. “Hi, Rose.”

She starts crying on the living room floor.

 

* * *

 

On July fourth, nineteen-twenty-five, you are diagnosed with insomnia. You only sleep for two hours a night. The pills they give you don’t change a thing. You lay in bed and listen to Dave’s steady breathing, feel his arms around your waist, his chest against your head, his breath ruffling your hair, and you try to exist. Jade is dead. You wish she weren’t. It’s your fault she’s dead and you know it, but no one will say it to you. Rose cries sometimes. For hours. She just sobs, and you can hear her move, breathe, walk, cry. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Dave’s arms are around your waist, your head is against his chest, and in the quiet hours of the night, among the stray cats yowling and the cricket chirps, you do not exist.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !!! i wrote this in like twenty minutes and it's probably shit lmao, but i'm glad you tolerated it to the end.


End file.
